


take the leap

by protagonists



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ad Agency AU, Alternate Universe, Co-workers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, It's all about the yearning afterwards, M/M, Sexual Tension, Will add tags as I update, a bit of angst but it's a happy ending i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protagonists/pseuds/protagonists
Summary: When a copywriter and an art director play a game of mutual hostility, chaos ensues.or: Atsumu learns some human truths in the wonderful (and superficial) world of advertising.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 38
Kudos: 144





	1. miya atsumu is fine.

**Author's Note:**

> This self-indulgent Advertising Agency AU has been my brainrot for the loooooooongest time. I was thinking who would fit this story because my main ships' dynamics (BokuAtsu and BokuAka) are different from the flavor I'm looking for. 
> 
> Then one day, SakuAtsu just hit me, so here we are now. Hope you enjoy! :)

Miya Atsumu is fine. Or at least, he says he is.

At the age of 27, he’s a senior Art Director in one of the top Ad Agencies in Japan. He’s got a few awards under his belt, several multinational clients handled and a few magazine articles that featured him. People may think he’s got a great life, but behind all the glossy advertisements on billboards is a man who is tired of having to edit the beautiful faces that adorned them.

But he doesn’t complain. He is fine, after all.

Before he could check his emails to see his workload for the day, he heard a voice, steel cold and heartless, just like the man that the voice belonged to. _Sakusa Kiyoomi._

“Fuckin’ hell.” Atsumu had many things to worry about, and a bratty senior copywriter was not one of them. He decided to stop Sakusa from wreaking further havoc in the office at 10 o’clock in the morning, saving everyone the trouble of having to hear one of his signature temper tantrums. He walked in big strides, confident and aggressive, as he approached the cubicle of his colleague. Before he could say a word, however, a tiny figure stood there, shivering in front of him. 

Small and unassuming, Yachi — one of the agency’s youngest and brightest creatives — was the victim of Sakusa’s temper today. No one was ever safe from Sakusa’s harsh words, but Atsumu knew _exactly_ how to handle him.

“Omi-kun, would’ya mind not scaring my junior over here?” Atsumu greeted Sakusa, his voice warm and friendly to offset the writer’s biting tone. He placed a hand on Yachi’s shoulder, an attempt to calm her down after facing the monster that was Sakusa. 

“One, don’t call me that. We’re not friends, Miya. Two, this conversation wouldn’t have happened if she did her job properly. I can’t submit her work to clients with minor typos like this. We have standards to meet.” Sakusa replied, turning his attention back to the screen. 

_How rude._ Atsumu thought. This wasn’t the first time Sakusa had done this to him. If it were anyone else but Atsumu, shots would have been fired, and Sakusa along with it.

“Yachi, go back to your desk. I’ll handle this.” Yachi nodded, tottering back to her seat on the other side of the room. Still frustrated, Atsumu loomed over Sakusa, whose glare was still directed towards the screen. 

“Sakusa, you can’t just terrorize juniors whenever you feel like it. If you gotta problem, talk to me first. I’ll be the one to fix it.” Atsumu patiently explained. “Don’t tell her how to do her job.” 

Sakusa scoffed. “You? God, I wouldn’t have to tell her how to do her job if you only did yours.”

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Atsumu retaliated, his voice rising to match his frustration. “Come on, Kiyoomi. Tell me.”

Sakusa closed the lid of his laptop, tucking the device carefully under his arm. Before he left his desk, he gave his colleague a stare filled with fury. As usual, his mouth was covered by a mask, but Atsumu knew just by looking him directly in the eye that Sakusa was just as pissed as he was. 

“It means, Miya, that you should do more than just sit on your ass watching YouTube videos and actually think about getting some work done. That’s what you’re paid for.” He hissed. “Now get out of my face.”

“Fuck. You. That’s for research.” Atsumu was seething as he spat every word out. “Like you’re any better, asshole. Always on your phone, even during meetings. If you actually listened, you wouldn’t have to clarify every five seconds in the group chat.”

The tension was palpable between the two. It was stares filled with anger and spite, matching the intensity of the other’s. No one batted an eye, not wanting to be the first to back down from this fight, one of many which had transpired over the years. They had been playing a game of mutual hostility, each day a test to see who would emerge victorious.

Before they could determine the winner of today's match, a voice interrupted them. “Kiyoomi, come on!” Iizuna yelled from the doorway. As the account executive, Iizuna was one of the few people Kiyoomi listened to, albeit reluctantly. “Conference Room B, don’t be late!”

“I don’t have time for this.” Sakusa was the first to break away from their stare down. With a _tch_ made out of frustration, he marched towards the hallway for his meeting, his shoes noisily thudding against the floor.

“Yeah, good talk, Omi!” Atsumu yelled after him. As he headed back to his seat, he muttered under his breath. “What a load of shit.”

He took a few moments to calm himself down. _Some battles are not worth fighting_ , he thought. He’ll let karma kick Sakusa’s ass later. With a sigh, he tried to go back to his usual routine. Emails first, job orders next. Fucking around could wait until later. He _was_ a professional, after all.

Unfortunately, the first thing that he saw on his plate was a daunting job order to create a storyboard for a TV campaign they were launching next week. The stress of this task added to his frustration from earlier, so Atsumu needed some time to think. 

For someone who had been in the ad industry for quite a while, Atsumu firmly believed that creativity came in the most unexpected of places, and his thinking spot of choice? The building smoking area.

Not to say that Atsumu smoked a lot. He was as casual as they came, only needing a stick or two when the stress got to him once in a while. A smoke break gave him time to decompress, especially on the most stressful of days.

Today was one of those days, and the clock still hadn’t struck noon. 

When Atsumu reached the smoking area, he was relieved to see no one else. He could rest easy, for now. He lit a cigarette, placing the stick between his fingers in one hand, and his phone in the other to catch up on some notifications.

 _Instagram. Twitter. Facebook_ . _Nothing new._

As he scrolled past post after post, all he could see was a blur of vain selfies and curated travel throwback photos. Authenticity was a lie—Atsumu of all people knew that. He’s tired of people pretending to be perfectly polished caricatures of themselves. Behind all the filters, they were all the same, himself included. _Buncha fakers._

When he’s down to the last few puffs of his cigarette, he heard his phone ping, signalling an incoming text. He opened it quickly, his hands trembling as he saw the sender of the message. 

Meian Shugo, the chief creative officer of their company. _Oh shit._

Atsumu nearly dropped the stick in his hands, but he managed to put out the cigarette in the ash bin. He looked closely at his phone, nothing but a lone sentence displayed on the screen. No fuss and straight to the point, the text conveyed no emotion, making it nearly impossible for Atsumu to discern whether it was good news or bad news. Again and again, he read the words on his screen:

**Miya, please see me in my office.**

He wondered what he did wrong. Hopefully it didn’t involve a certain encounter with a black-haired asshole this morning. If it did, and karma hadn’t kicked Sakusa’s ass yet, Atsumu would do it himself.  
  


* * *

Atsumu was brave. He’s a risk-taker, always challenging existing ideas and innately curious to try new things

Today, however, Atsumu was afraid. He’s hesitant to open the door of Meian Shugo’s office, not knowing what to expect. But he knew it must be done, so he took a deep breath and did so anyway. 

“Heya, boss!” Atsumu greeted, his voice bright and cheerful. He spotted the infamous Meian Shugo at his desk, tinkering with his laptop as always. Meian was scary, a thousand times worse than Sakusa could ever be. But if you did your job—and did your job well—you had nothing to be afraid of. 

Meian’s office was surrounded by tall glass panels, as if he was on display for everyone to see. This office design was meant to establish transparency between bosses and employees, an effort to build trust towards the executives. Atsumu couldn’t help but think that this was all for show, because the bosses were rarely in their office; instead, they opted to go out for lunches with clients or meetings at coffee shops. He knew office politics was just a bunch of hoops and ladders you had to go through to get to the top. The advertising industry was a game, and Atsumu had every intention of winning.

“Have a seat, Miya.” Meian gestured for the blonde to sit down on the couch across from him. “Thanks for taking the time to see me today. I’m sure you’re busy.” 

Atsumu sat up straight, no intention of showing just how nervous he really was. “Not a problem, boss!” 

“Thank you. I trust you’re doing well? Getting along with your team?”

Atsumu’s eyes flitted, his thoughts still clear as day from the conversation earlier with Sakusa. _Surely_ the boss wouldn’t call him out over a petty disagreement, right? “Of course! Always do.”

After he received a curt nod from Meian, a small exhale of relief escaped him. “You’ve done a lot of great things here, Atsumu, and I’m impressed. Your colleagues respect you, the clients love you, and all the materials you create are on-point all the time.”

Atsumu replied with a huge grin on his face. “Just doing my job, Chief!” There was no better feeling than hearing one of the best in the industry compliment you for doing your best. Atsumu was proud of his achievements. He's done a lot, and it’s about damn time people knew it. 

“Glad to hear, because I have some good news for you.”

Atsumu’s heart thumped against his chest. Maybe it was the offer he’d been waiting for. Five years of his life, he’d been working here, and blood, sweat and tears were an understatement to show the sacrifices he had made just to get where he was now. 

He closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply just to calm himself.

“I’d like to offer you...”

_Here it is. Finally. Associate Creative Director._

“...the opportunity to lead a pitch for a new client.”

Atsumu gulped. _Ah._ He should have known better than to get his hopes up. What exactly had he expected from them? _Buncha tightwads who can’t fork up money for raises. Here they are sitting on their comfy ass couches while we do all the work._

But obviously Atsumu didn’t say that. He was, after all, Miya “most valuable employee, goody two-shoes” Atsumu. At least, that’s what he heard people say about him. He grinned and presented the version of himself that befitted his reputation. 

“Sounds great, Meian-sama! Who’s the team gonna be?”

“It’s a small but strong team. We’ll have Kiyoko as client service lead, you’ll be heading art direction and Sakusa will be heading copy. We can pull in some juniors to help out, if needed.” Meian barely looked up from his laptop, continuing to type on his keyboard.

His jaw dropped as he heard the name of the devil from his boss’ mouth. “Sorry, what?””

“Kiyoko, you, and Sakusa. I’ll be there to help out from time to time, but I trust you three can handle things.” Meian repeated, his attention still directed towards his computer screen.

Atsumu was in disbelief. Of course he was. This was the last thing he expected when he entered this office. When people said karma was a bitch, they weren’t kidding.

“Me? With Sakusa? You’re joking, right?”

Apparently, Atsumu's response wasn't something his boss expected. Upon hearing his little outburst, Meian raised an eyebrow, looking his subordinate straight in the eye. A shiver of fear ran down Atsumu’s spine. _Oh god._ “Miya, do I look like I’m joking at all?” 

In an effort to salvage his outburst, Atsumu managed to respond calmly. “...No sir. I was just surprised, is all. I haven’t gotten a chance to work with the _wonderful_ Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

After a tense moment of silence, Meian turned his attention back to his screen, his mouse moving fluidly as he resumed his work. “I’m sure you’ll be great. I imagine you two will have good chemistry.”

Atsumu wanted to laugh out loud. If you could define two volatile substances mixing together as good chemistry, then Atsumu and Sakusa combined would be the best damn chemical out there. “I’m sure we will, sir.”

“Good. That’s all for now. Thanks for your time, Miya.” He nodded, giving Atsumu the permission to leave his door.

At the start of the day, Atsumu thought he was doing just fine. 

Then Sakusa Kiyoomi happened.

Then this trainwreck of a meeting happened.

After all these, Atsumu started to think that maybe he wasn’t doing so fine after all. 


	2. brainstorming's a bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What are ‘ya gonna do about it, Omi-kun?”
> 
> "This."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read this fic of mine! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next part, things are heating up. ʕ ᵔᴥᵔ ʔ
> 
> Other things:  
> \- Atsumu = Art Director (In charge of visual direction of a creative material)  
> \- Sakusa = Copywriter (In charge of the the text/copy of creative materials)
> 
> Art Directors and Copywriters usually work together to work on creative materials. 
> 
> \- regroup/alignment = fancy word for meetings, especially internal ones (i.e. within the agency and without clients yet)

In the creative industry, you’re only as good as your last idea. 

Atsumu knew this for a fact, and so each and every time, he managed to come up with fresh and exciting ideas from scratch. He was confident in his skill and talent, his discipline in the craft acquired over years of practice. Thinking outside of the box came naturally to him, as if it were some sort of muscle memory for his creativity. When Atsumu pitched something, his art would never disappoint, that much he was sure of. 

Sakusa, unfortunately, had other ideas.

In a large conference room, the two reluctant teammates sat on opposite ends of the table as they waited for the start of yet another meeting they were forced to attend.  _ God forbid I have to sit beside him,  _ Atsumu thought. 

A week had passed since it was announced that he and Sakusa were heading the campaign pitch team, and as the days went by, things between them didn’t get any better. Right now, he looked towards his teammate who was currently inspecting his initial draft storyboards for the nth time that day. He wrote note after note, circling all the errors that he spotted in the layout. It didn’t take long before the piece of paper in his hands looked like a bloody mess due to the red ink. “Miya, you know this idea is crap. Why did you bother adding it here?”

“Because it’s good? Because I know it’s what the clients are looking for?” Atsumu replied, staring at the way Sakusa scribbled at his work. “And what the hell kinda notes are those? That’s all based on client direction.”

“It is not, and you know it. We can’t show this as our first pass to the team. It’s shit.” While his work was being critiqued by his teammate, Atsumu decided that enough was enough. He marched over to Sakusa’s seat, infuriated at the blows he was taking from him.

“Excuse me? How about you check your work first!” Atsumu stood over Sakusa’s shoulder, demanding the attention of the writer. “Take a look at your taglines. None of your studies fit the brief!”

With a huff, Sakusa sat up and faced his co-worker, not even trying to hide the annoyance on his face. With folded arms, he cocked an eyebrow and looked Atsumu straight in the eye as he challenged, “How would you know?” 

Atsumu took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes in frustration.  _ The audacity of this bastard.  _ He couldn’t take it anymore, so he blurted out, “BECAUSE I READ THE FUCKING BRIEF, KIYOOMI.” 

Sakusa scoffed. “That’s a shocker. I didn’t know you could read, Miya.” 

“Oh, fuck off.”

“How about you fuck off?”

The tension between them was quickly escalating, as if at any moment one of them would lunge towards the other. Before Atsumu could come back with a retort of his own, a booming voice immediately changed the energy in the room.

“HEY, HEY, HEY!” 

Bokuto Koutarou, head of social media, established his presence as he entered the conference room. “What’s happening, guys?” The two rivals decided to pretend that nothing happened, so Atsumu trudged back to his seat and Sakusa went back to judging the storyboards on his desk.

When Atsumu returned to his seat, Bokuto was already positioned right beside him. As he plopped on the seat's cushion, the burly man beside him gave him a nudge. “Hey, Tsum-Tsum. Heard you’re working on a big pitch? You doing good?”

“Sure.” Atsumu said simply, pulling out his notebook. Bokuto was a good friend, one of the best people in and out of the office. On a normal day, Atsumu wouldn’t think twice of chatting him up even if it was about the usual office bullshit. Sakusa, however, effectively drained him of the ability to have a decent conversation with anyone. Atsumu didn’t want to accidentally snap at the person who least deserved it, so he chose not to say anything at all. The rest of the team started entering the conference room one-by-one until the seats were occupied, a sign that the meeting was about to start. 

Bokuto prepared his laptop, flashing the presentation on the screen. “Omi, why aren’t you sitting here? Come closer so you can see the screen.” He gestured the copywriter to move closer. 

“No, thanks.” Sakusa mumbled, the clackety sounds of his keyboards filling the room as the rest of them sat in silence.

If there was one thing to know about Bokuto, it was the fact that he was smart and insanely good with people. He knew what made people on the Internet tick, what they would respond to and what would make them choose a brand over others. Unfortunately, in the confines of this conference room, his skills were nowhere to be found as he seemed to have missed out on the tension between Atsumu and Sakusa. 

The silver-haired man asked again. “Are you sure? There’s an empty seat here beside Tsumu-”

“I said I’m fine. Thanks.” Sakusa responded bluntly, continuing to write in his notebook. 

Bokuto paused for a bit, before eventually deciding to proceed. “Okay, then. Can we get the meeting started? I’ll take you through the data.”

When the presentation started, the lights dimmed out, the only source of light coming from the projector. Atsumu sneaked a quick look at Sakusa, checking to see what the writer was doing. Unsurprisingly, Sakusa was on his phone. Again.

Atsumu decided to call him out on his bullshit, so he sent him a text where he was sure Sakusa could see it.

> **Miya Atsumu**
> 
> >> Hey
> 
> >> Listen to Bokuto
> 
> >> Get off your fucking phone
> 
> **Sakusa Kiyoomi**
> 
> >> How the fuck did you get my phone number?
> 
> >> Did you bribe HR?
> 
> **Miya Atsumu**
> 
> >> Because we’re in the same group chat dumbass
> 
> >> I wouldn’t spend a single cent on you
> 
> **Sakusa Kiyoomi**
> 
> >> Whatever, stalker.
> 
> **Miya Atsumu**
> 
> >> Shut the fuck up and listen
> 
> >> This might be helpful for the pitch
> 
> >> Don’t want none of your questions when we’re working on that
> 
> >> Got it?
> 
> **Sakusa Kiyoomi**
> 
> >> I already know this, okay?
> 
> >> I don’t care for your tone, Miya.
> 
> >> One screenshot is all it takes for HR to send a memo your way.
> 
> **Miya Atsumu**
> 
> >> You wouldn’t dare
> 
> **Sakusa Kiyoomi**
> 
> >> Try me.

With a huff, Atsumu pocketed his phone, his heart rate escalating by the second all because of a few texts which managed to get on his nerves. Atsumu knew having a career in advertising would be stressful, but what he didn’t expect was that a bastard of a teammate would be the source of his stress.

An hour later, empty buzzwords and inconsequential numbers occupied his brain. Not that Atsumu really understood or cared for any of it, to be honest, but he had to at least  _ try _ to understand what the hell was going on. That was his job, after all.

Once the meeting was officially adjourned, everyone rushed to their own cubicles to get on with the rest of their days. Before Atsumu could set foot on the hallway, he felt a firm hand grip on his shoulder.   
  
“What do you want now?” Atsumu snapped, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw the person who had reached out to him. “Oh shit, sorry Bokkun. Kinda having a bad day.”

Bokuto patted Atsumu on the arm once again, laughing at his friend’s response. “It’s okay. I noticed. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Walk with me?” 

“Sure.” The two headed out of the conference room, their footsteps matching the other’s while they talked.

“So, Tsum-tsum, what’s up with you and Omi?” Bokuto asked, sincerity in his voice. They stopped at an empty corner of the hallway, away from prying ears so that they could have their conversation in peace. In a quieter tone, Bokuto continued. “Sorry, only if you want to talk about it, of course. I’m just concerned about you, is all.”

Atsumu swallowed, not wanting to bring up his personal issues with the one person who always saw right through him. “You saw that, huh?” 

“Of course I did!” Bokuto laughed. “I know you, and the only one who gets on your nerves like that is him.”

“God. He’s such an asshole. I don’t know why he’s still here.”

“Because he’s a damn good writer, Atsumu. You can’t deny it.” 

Atsumu snorted at Bokuto’s comment. Of course Sakusa was good, but he’d rather die first than admit it out loud. “Who gives a shit about his writing when he’s got the personality of a cactus?”

“A cactus? Really?” A hearty chuckle escaped Bokuto. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Yeah, ‘cuz he’s prickly. I don’t know, I’m not a fuckin’ writer, okay?”

Bokuto was vibrating with laughter as he threw his arm around an exasperated Atsumu. “Exactly! That’s why you need Omi as your partner.”

“Fuck off.” Atsumu muttered under his breath, slapping Bokuto’s arm to get it off of him. “God, I sure could use a drink tonight.”

Bokuto stopped and placed his hand on his chin, as if he were deep in thought. Suddenly, he exclaimed. “Do you want to grab some tonight so you can tell me all about your little problem with Omi? My treat.” When Atsumu simply stared at him blankly, Bokuto pleaded. “C’mon, I know you want to.”

“Fine, I’ll go to your area later after work.” Atsumu relented. “And just to be clear, it’s not a  _ little _ problem when he’s a giant pain-in-the-ass, Bokkun.”

Bokuto cocked his head to the side, genuinely curious at his friend’s statement. “Oh c’mon! How bad could it be?”

Dreading the many stories he’d have to unload onto Bokuto later, Atsumu pondered what to answer his friend.  _ I’ll deal with that later,  _ he thought. Instead, he just gave a heavy sigh as he replied, “Trust me, you have no idea.”

* * *

Brainstorming was always a bitch.

For once, Atsumu couldn’t come up with anything, his mind as blank as the open canvas on his laptop screen. Who could blame him, though? The past few weeks had been rough.

Ever since he’d been told that he would be working with _ Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi _ of all people, Atsumu’s stress was on a whole other level. Not only that, they had to be teammates for a project that could possibly make or break their careers. 

They were pitching for the launch of a new beverage line: soft drinks in different fruity flavors that Atsumu was genuinely excited for. Sakusa, on the other hand, could not see the appeal at all. (Atsumu won their feud that time. Rather, Kiyoko did, after telling them both that they had the choice of either working on this pitch or in another agency. The two shut up immediately.)

Atsumu still had many issues with Sakusa. Right now, however, all of them were put aside as they worked overtime yet again. The two of them were currently stuck in a meeting room at 2 o'clock in the morning, rushing to finish their proposals in time for the first regroup with the bosses that week. Whiteboards filled with messy handwriting surrounded them, along with colorful Post-it notes stuck onto the walls to aid their brainstorming session. The rest of their office mates had gone home already, and the only person left in the office besides them was the security guard manning the reception area, probably half asleep at this time of the night.

Atsumu was stressed. Is stressed. Will always be stressed. And all he wanted to do was scream.

But of course he couldn’t.

When Atsumu told Bokuto all his grievances towards Sakusa, he was glad to have the chance to blow off some steam over a round of drinks. Bokuto was one of the best people to go to when you had a problem, always ready as a shoulder to cry on. Unfortunately, he was also a weepy drunk, so before Atsumu could finish ranting about Sakusa’s shitty behavior, Bokuto got teary-eyed at the thought of Akaashi and him fighting like the two of them.

Atsumu could still recall their conversation clearly. 

“ _ Do you think Akaashi will leave me, Tsum-Tsum?"  _

_ "Bokkun, you've been together for ten years already. If he hasn't left your annoying ass yet, he probably never will."  _

_ "You're ri- HEY!" _

“Shut up.” Sakusa said, effectively breaking Atsumu's train of thought. The writer was busy typing on his laptop, barely making any effort to look at the man beside him. 

The two were working side-by-side, a chair serving as a makeshift barrier between them. Both of them worked in silence, the sleeves of their shirts rolled up as they worked on their respective creative materials in the stuffy conference room. Usually the air conditioning was turned off at 6 PM sharp, an attempt for the employees to work only within office hours. Unfortunately in this industry, 6 PM was when the work just got started, so they had to bear with the stifling working conditions of the room. The rising heat did nothing to help cool off the two hotheads. 

Atsumu spoke out, slightly offended by his teammate’s outburst. “I’m not even saying anything!”

Sakusa tilted his chin towards the object in Atsumu’s hand. “It’s your stylus. Stop tapping it on the table, it’s annoying.” Without his mask, Atsumu could see the writer’s scowl, which probably remained even if he wore the piece of cloth over his face. 

The art director leaned back and reclined on his chair as he swiveled to face Sakusa. He stretched his legs out in the tight space between the two of them, a petty move to spite the writer. “Didn’t we just have dinner a while ago? Why are you so cranky, Sakusa? Are ‘ya hungry again?”

“Because you won’t shut up and let me get to work! I just want to finish this and go the fuck home. I’m tired.”

“Well, I’m _so_ sorry you’re tired.” Atsumu replied, not even attempting to hide the sarcasm in his voice. “Why don’t you get a drink after this? You look like you could use one.”

“Miya. Why can’t you ever just shut up? I’m serious.” Sakusa was seething, each word said through gritted teeth. “I’m so fucking tired of having to put up with your shit.”

“You’re tired of me?” Atsumu barked out a laugh. “If anyone should be tired, it’s me! It’s your copy that’s the problem. The art is in the right direction, you’re the one who’s dragging us down! If you just put more  _ effort _ -”

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me that I do  _ not _ put in the effort. I plan, I research, I proofread. Everything I do, I make sure it’s the best damn thing I can put out there.” 

“Well guess what? It’s not enough,  _ Omi _ .”

When their eyes met, anger was an understatement to describe the intensity of Sakusa’s expression. It was then that Atsumu realized that he had gone too far. “I told you not to call me that!” Sakusa was infuriated, enough to make him get up from his seat. Atsumu noticed the rising and falling of Sakusa’s chest, the writer’s anger so visible, a side of him never seen before.

Atsumu wasn’t one to back down. The fight continued to escalate as Atsumu taunted Sakusa with his action. He stood up to confront his colleague, riling him up even further. Chairs were shoved out of the way as they each stepped forward and closed the distance between them.

In a span of mere seconds, they were inches apart. Atsumu tilted his head slightly to face Sakusa, meeting the man’s steely gaze head-on. Atsumu grabbed Sakusa’s shirt, balling up the fabric in his hands as he pulled the other man closer towards him. With a smirk, he whispered, “Yeah? What are ‘ya gonna do about it, Omi-kun?”

A pause.

As a creative, Atsumu could imagine a hundred different ways this situation could go. 

The first scenario: a fist fight, which leads to a meeting with human resources, which leads to the eventual termination of their employment. Not worth it, really.

The second scenario: him letting go of Sakusa’s shirt, walking away, and both of them going back to work as usual. No fuss necessary.

What he didn’t account for was the third scenario, all of which happened in the blink of an eye.

Sakusa pulled away from Atsumu’s grasp, his hands grabbing the blonde’s shoulders as he slammed him against the whiteboard. The markings of their brainstorming notes were wiped out as Atsumu’s back hit the surface. Atsumu’s body shook slightly, his nerves becoming more prominent as time went on. 

At that moment, Atsumu could not distinguish hatred from attraction. Heart pounding, head spinning, heavy breathing — these were all visceral reactions towards the man in front of him. Sakusa was staring at his colleague, eyes locked with the other’s as he studied the man pinned against the wall. Without a mask to hide behind, he seemed almost vulnerable, his eyebrows furrowed and his slight frown on display. The fire in his eyes said otherwise, and Atsumu watched Sakusa’s mouth hang slightly open, as if words were about to come out at any time.

This was when Atsumu realized: Sakusa wasn’t being vulnerable at all. This was the face of a determined man.  _ Determined to do what, exactly?  _

Before he could fully understand what was happening, Sakusa leaned in towards him, warm breath hitting against the surface of his skin. With noses barely touching, Sakusa’s lips hovered over Atsumu’s. Atsumu was stunned, but even more so when he realized that he didn’t want to pull away. Eventually, Sakusa mouthed a single word, one syllable that held too much power all at once.

“This.” 

Then Sakusa closed the distance between their lips. 

Atsumu had visualized thousands of scenarios in his lifetime, but never this. Never in his lifetime would he have thought of the scenario that was Sakusa Kiyoomi kissing Miya Atsumu. 

Atsumu wasn’t good with words—that was Sakusa’s territory after all. Right now, however, he didn’t need words to explain the sensations he felt. Hunger and anger, desire and spite, emotions that mixed and matched but only boiled down to one word.

_ More.  _

To his surprise, Sakusa pulled back, his eyes widening in shock at his own actions. “Shit, Miya. I’m so-” Before he could finish his sentence, Atsumu pulled him closer, his hands carefully cradling his face as he brought the man back towards him. 

For Atsumu, not one element in this scenario made sense to him, most especially not Sakusa “I’m better than you” Kiyoomi allowing Atsumu to see him, touch him,  _ feel  _ him. Atsumu’s fingers traced curves and intertwined with curly black locks, all of which would never have been allowed prior to this moment.

Sakusa moved backwards, leading their bodies towards the table, his hand swiping across the surface as loose leaves of paper and pens flew to the ground. In a sudden surge of impatience, Atsumu decided to take the lead this time, grabbing Sakusa’s wrists and pinning the writer flat on his back on the now-clear conference room table. 

Had there been anyone else in the office to see them, it would have been a shock to see the two office rivals in their current state. For once, their faces were flushed red from their relentless kisses instead of their unyielding fury towards each other.

Atsumu continued to plant kisses along Sakusa’s jaw, enjoying the man’s moans and pleas as he writhed underneath him. Atsumu’s lips curved into a smirk, finally having the pleasure of seeing the one person that irritated him shut up for once. 

In between kisses and moans, Atsumu managed to whisper, asking for permission to go further. “Is it okay? More?” Sakusa nodded.

The blonde continued, his lips exploring the length of Sakusa’s neck as he listened to his name being cried out loud.

_ Miya. _

He kissed. 

_ Miya. _

He bit.

_ Atsumu. _

He froze.

Time stopped for a moment as Atsumu’s blood ran cold. His body tensed for a split second before immediately pulling away from Sakusa. 

Too much.

Too fast.

_ Too far.  _

Atsumu wanted more. A lot more, if he was being honest. But hearing Sakusa calling him by his first name, Atsumu knew they had crossed a line. 

_ Fuck. _ He thought. He had no idea how they arrived at this point, but Atsumu knew moving forward, there was no going back. 

Atsumu leaned against the wall, his head tilted towards the ceiling as he tried his best to avoid looking at his teammate.

Tonight had been a whirlwind of emotions. From petty spite to legitimate anger, desperate want and inevitable regret. 

Atsumu was filled with hesitation, contemplating on whether or not to break the unbearable silence between them. Before he could act, however, Sakusa’s voice, cold and blunt as always, echoed in the room. 

“Miya, I’m sorry. This never should have happened.”

Atsumu looked towards his teammate who was now sitting up from the table, trying to fix his clothes in a rush.

“There's nothing to be sorry for. We both wanted it, right?” Atsumu replied, his tone as sharp as Sakusa's. 

Again, Atsumu wasn't good with words, but the visual cues told him everything he needed to know.

The wiped out markings of the whiteboard: words and thoughts erased in the blink of an eye, a testament to the incident that happened here tonight.

The dim lighting of the conference room: shadows and darkness that kept them hidden in the wee hours of the morning, never to see the light of day.

Atsumu's clothes: wrinkled, unkempt. His usually clean-cut appearance brought to ruin by none other than Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Sakusa's face: The stray curls that covered his eyes now a tangled mess, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes directed towards the ground. Atsumu knew Sakusa was in a perpetual state of displeasure, but never like this. His expression wasn't his usual reaction of disgust and irritation. It was disappointment and unhappiness.

It was regret.

No words could encapsulate the gravity of Atsumu's emotions at that moment.

As Atsumu watched Sakusa walk away, leaving him alone in the confines of the conference room, his last words of  _ this was a mistake _ echoed in the room and in Atsumu's head.

Each of his observations painted the scene for Atsumu very clearly.

And Atsumu wasn't happy with what he was seeing.

Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW This chapter was S T R E S S F U L, but I have more in store for the next few chapters! Their actual work is just getting started.
> 
> Many special thanks to Meg (ao3 user stormhund), the ultimate cheerleader and beta-reader, whose comments gave me LIFE!
> 
> Until the next update! Talk to me on twitter @bokkuatsu ! :)


	3. so much for honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We can try to be....friends.” 
> 
> “Friends? Don’t you think that’s asking for a bit much?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for sticking around. While these two were busy with overtime work in the ad industry, so was I. 😥  
> But I'm back! I hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> terminology:  
> Decks - Fancy word for Powerpoint presentation
> 
> **CW // mentions of smoking in this chapter.**
> 
> That's it! Hope you like it!

Miya Atsumu was distracted. This was strange because, usually, he was not. 

He’d always been good at zoning in and paying attention to tiny little details, which mattered a lot when you’re responsible for producing giant billboards to be seen by thousands of people each day. 

Unfortunately, today was not a good day for him. He was sleep deprived from last night’s activities, after his (not so) little incident with Sakusa, and he still had to finish his slides in time for their alignment with the pitch team. Right now, Atsumu and his co-workers were huddled around, listening intently as Sakusa took his turn to present his slides.

Atsumu was scribbling furiously in his notebook, taking notes as Sakusa’s voice filled the room. He looked up, trying to see the slides flashed on the screen before he eventually got distracted by the man who was presenting. He observed Sakusa, who currently had the attention of everyone in the room. The writer emulated confidence, his posture upright and his voice steady as he took the team through his presentation.

If there was one thing to know about Sakusa, it was the fact that he was nothing if not meticulous. Every single step of the campaign, from the build up to the actual launch, the writer managed to take the rest of the team through his ideas effortlessly, making it as clear and concise as possible.

For some reason, this infuriated Atsumu. Not only was he distracted, but the cause of his lack of focus was right there in front of him looking completely unbothered. 

What happened last night felt like a fever dream, a completely unprecedented scenario that even his constantly wild imagination could never have come up with. But it did happen, it had happened, and Atsumu was stuck thinking of what his next steps would be to get over it.

He absolutely hated it, hated the fact that he had to think about it in the first place because all he’s ever wanted was to get this pitch over with, focus on his career and go his separate way from Sakusa, just like they’ve always done before. But one reckless mistake could have his plans come undone, and he’d never forgive himself if Sakusa was the cause of it. 

Atsumu chalked up the incident to the stress, the lack of sleep, hell even the fact that he hasn’t gotten laid in months. Who had the time to think of all these things when the only thing he’d been sleeping with was a laptop that rendered videos for hours on end? 

But Atsumu knew better. He knew he had let Sakusa get under his skin, had let him occupy his brain for a bit too long, and in some screwed up way, the breaking point had to be them making out in the same conference room he was now sitting in.

He continued to observe Sakusa whose way of presenting was starkly different from his. Where Atsumu told a story, wanting to paint the picture for clients as clearly and vividly as possible, Sakusa tended to focus on the facts, and it always worked to his advantage. Even though he was a creative writer, his words managed to captivate his audience without the need for sugar coating or flowery words. One couldn’t help but be instantly  _ sold _ by whatever Sakusa was selling.

Except Atsumu, of course.

Atsumu snorted once he heard Sakusa say that “this drink was a game-changer” because from the time they’ve spent working on their materials, this was the furthest thing from his actual opinion. 

“Is there something funny, Atsumu?” Kiyoko asked. As the Accounts Director, she was in charge of making sure the project stayed on track, and this meant calling out bullshit whenever she saw it. Everyone turned their heads to Atsumu, even Sakusa who had to stop his presentation mid-sentence. 

“Oh, sorry. Just sneezed, is all.” Atsumu replied. “Please, continue.” He directed his statement directly to Sakusa, who simply cocked an eyebrow before continuing his presentation.

_ Fuck.  _

Atsumu returned his attention to his notebook, noticing the hard edges of his strokes as he continued to write. He was  _ angry,  _ and he was tired of being angry. He had to do something about it soon, or else he’d run the risk of ruining everything he’d worked so hard for. 

“Miya.” 

Atsumu continued to write. He was finally motivated to focus on Sakusa’s presentation, but this was only because he was hell-bent on trying to point out each and every flaw he found in his ideas. 

_ That’s definitely not what clients want. It’s off brand. _

_ People won’t relate to your ideas. _

_ I just don’t get what you want to say. _

_ I don’t feel anything after listening to you. _

“MIYA.” Meian’s voice echoed inside the room. The rest of the team sat up straight, and Atsumu was jolted upright from his seat. 

“Yes, sir?” He replied, blinking from his seat.

“I said, what are your thoughts on Sakusa’s ideas? I know you’ve seen this already since you’ve been working together on this campaign, but I also want to know your thoughts since your ideas have a different direction in mind.” Everyone’s attention went straight to Atsumu, waiting to hear him speak up.

Atsumu gulped. He looked at the messy scribbles on his notebook, trying to form a coherent sentence that didn’t make him look like an asshole. “Ah. The thing is, although our ideas are rooted in the same insight, I feel that Sakusa’s ideas…” He looked directly to Sakusa as he finished his sentence. “lack  _ heart. _ ”

Sakusa’s expression remained unfazed, but Atsumu knew just by looking at his eyes he had clearly struck a nerve. As much as Sakusa was good —  _ great _ , even — at his job, his main weakness had always been telling a story that made people emotional, which was Atsumu’s strength. 

“With all due respect sir, I would just like-” Sakusa’s defense was immediately cut off when Meian held up a hand to stop him.

“No, I see where Miya is coming from.” Meian pondered for a bit, before eventually continuing. “Sakusa, your executions are great. I agree with the way you positioned the product as something new and exciting, but it lacks... that  _ oomph _ . It’s too product-centric. I want to see what the consumers will get out of it. Make them  _ feel _ something, you get what I’m saying?”

Sakusa merely nodded in agreement. If he was disappointed, no one would have known as his lips remained pressed in a straight line. Not even a twitch or a quiver of the lip. If it were anyone else, they’d probably be crying at the thought of their hard work being shot down by someone of Meian’s calibre, but this was the big leagues. There was no room to be weak in the face of the monsters of the industry.

“Miya, same with yours. Your creatives are on point, as always. I like how you’ve managed to make something compelling and interesting based on your mock-ups.” A tiny smirk played at the edge of Atsumu’s lips. “But it lacks depth, which I think Sakusa provided very well. I’m expecting more from the both of you.” Atsumu’s smile died in an instant upon hearing Meian’s words. He glared at Sakusa, who was now smirking unabashedly.  _ That smug fucker _ , he thought. 

Kiyoko cleared her throat, getting the attention of everyone. “Noted, Meian. So, Kiyoomi, Atsumu. When are we getting the next pass? We need a deck with your consolidated ideas.” Kiyoko looked expectantly at the two.

Atsumu looked at Sakusa, who in turn was looking right back at him. Neither moved an inch, waiting to see who would speak first. Atsumu didn’t want to look like a quitter, but he knew having to consolidate their ideas meant that they’d had to work again, together. Just the two of them. And Atsumu wasn’t sure if he wanted  _ that _ .

He opened his mouth, wanting to ask a question but before he could say anything, Sakusa replied. “As soon as we can. When’s the next regroup for this, Shimizu?”

Shimizu sighed, checking the calendar on her laptop. “The timing’s a bit tight, but looks like the latest I can schedule is the day after tomorrow. Is this feasible for everyone?”

Groans were heard across the room. Tight timelines meant more overtime work for everyone, not to mention this was simply an addendum to their already hectic workload every day. But this pitch was important to the agency, to the team, and especially to Atsumu. A lot was on the line, and he wasn’t going to quit just because of whatever the hell was going on between him and Sakusa.

“I’m okay with it.” Atsumu said, breaking the silence in the room. Everyone else merely nodded in agreement despite their initial frustration. There was no point in complaining once schedules had been set. 

“Okay, I’ll send meeting invites to your calendars and email you the next steps. Thanks for your time everyone!” Kiyoko said cheerfully despite everyone’s miserable dispositions once the meeting was adjourned. 

As everyone else left the conference room, Atsumu approached Sakusa who was still getting his laptop from the projector.

“Hey.” Atsumu mumbled. “Can we talk? Just a few minutes of your time.”

“What’s there to talk about, Miya?” Sakusa responded bluntly, just as Atsumu expected. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but he had to do something to address the tension between them.

With a heavy sigh, Atsumu replied. “This is about work, okay? No need to be an asshole about it.”

“I’m not an  _ asshole _ . I’m just tired, okay?” The writer huffed. “Out with it. What do you want?”

Atsumu rubbed the back of his neck, unsure where to start. He paused for a few moments before eventually speaking. “Look, we don’t have to work on this together. I can send you my slides once I’m done with the revisions; you can revise as you wish. We don’t have to sit in the same room together. I don’t want things to be awkward or uncomfortable just because-”

“Miya, don’t worry. I’m a professional, and I’m sure you are too. When I say whatever happened last night didn’t happen at all, I meant it.”

Atsumu felt a pang in his chest as he heard those words from Sakusa. This  _ is  _ what he wanted right? This incident swept under the rug, never to be mentioned again?

Why did it make him feel this way?  _ This is irrational.  _

_ Then again _ , he thought,  _ when did things ever make sense when it came to Sakusa? _

“You’re right.” Atsumu muttered. “I’m just wondering. Why’d you say yes? To merging our ideas I mean. I know you had some thoughts about it before Meian stopped you.”

Sakusa slammed his laptop shut before turning to Atsumu. “If it’s for this pitch, I’d do anything for it to be the best damn thing out there, and Meian’s right anyway. Your ideas are good. Don’t you want to fight for it, too?” 

Atsumu blinked as he processed what he had just heard. Hidden behind Sakusa’s usual cold tone was one of the sincerest compliments he’d heard straight from the writer’s mouth. “Of course I do. You know I do. ”

Sakusa gave Atsumu a once-over, observing the artist’s demeanor. Once he was done, Sakusa continued. “It’s settled then, we can sit down and work on this tonight. We’ll see it through the end, right?” Sakusa asked, his eyes staring directly at Atsumu’s. 

To Atsumu this felt like a challenge posed directly at him. But because he knew better, knew that same exact look of unwavering resolve on Sakusa’s face, he knew that the man in front of him was asking himself the exact same question. 

At this point, Atsumu realized this wasn’t just a challenge. This was a promise he had to make, not only to Sakusa, but to himself as well.

There was no backing out now. 

And so, he nodded in agreement. 

“We will.”

* * *

That night, it was just the two of them once again. 

This time, Atsumu was seated opposite Sakusa, making it easier for them to talk about the work they had to do. 

That is, if they actually talked. 

Aside from a question every now and then, the two worked in complete silence as they addressed the revisions together. Sentences spoken never went past ‘Are you done?’ or ‘Is this okay?’ All conversations were strictly limited to work this time around.

Tension filled the air, the space in the room doing nothing to make the atmosphere any less unbearable. 

Atsumu was feeling slightly overwhelmed again, feeling the weight of his workload for other accounts and the additional stress of this precarious situation between him and Sakusa. Even though they both agreed to not talk about what happened, Atsumu still couldn’t help but think about it. 

He couldn’t stand it anymore, so he decided today was one of the days he had to decompress. He stood up, patting his pocket to make sure his pack of cigarettes and lighter was there before he spoke. “Sakusa, I’m gonna go have a smoke.” He hadn’t bothered to wait for his response as he exited the room.

“Miya.” Atsumu pretended not to hear, not wanting to be chastised for his filthy habit from someone like Sakusa. One of the main reasons why they never got along was because Sakusa had a tendency to want things done a certain way. File names should be done in a certain format, presentation decks had to follow a particular flow, desks should be spic and span as much as possible. Atsumu broke all of Sakusa’s rules when it came to his lifestyle, and he was sure smoking was one of them. 

“Miya, wait.” Sakusa repeated, his voice a bit louder as he stood behind Atsumu. “I’ll join you.” Atsumu turned around in surprise.

“Omi-kun, you smoke?” Sakusa flinched at his nickname being used by Atsumu, once again a reminder of what happened yesterday. Atsumu cringed as he heard the words come out of his mouth, not intending to cause Sakusa further discomfort. He knew they had crossed a line yesterday, but for the sake of the pitch and their jobs, they had to pretend that everything was still okay between them. 

“I do, sometimes.” Sakusa lifted up his hand, which held a pack of cigarettes. Atsumu saw the pack was open but still uncrumpled, a sign that it was still barely touched. 

Atsumu wanted to pry, but decided against it. Instead he nodded, allowing Sakusa to join him. “Let’s go.”

They made their way to the smoking room of their office, the smell of smoke still lingering in the air as they approached the ledge. They placed the cups of coffee they bought from the vending machines on the flat surface, their distance set by an ashtray in between them. 

The ledge gave them a view of the skyline, brightly lit buildings stretching out from their view from the floor of their building. Atsumu sparked the lighter in his hand, lighting up his cigarette. He leaned forward, elbows resting as he continued to observe the movement of yet another busy Tokyo night in front of him. 

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Atsumu said quietly, smoke lingering in the air from the cigarette.

To his left, Sakusa exhaled slowly, wisps of gray leaving his mouth in controlled doses. “I guess it is.”

Atsumu observed the writer, curious to see his behavior in this unfamiliar environment. Like everything else, Sakusa did it properly, almost methodically. After each drag, he exhaled for four seconds, then tapped the ashes cigarette neatly on the ashtray. He repeated this again. He was neat, despite the fact that smoking as an activity was not. 

“You know, I’ve never seen you smoke here before.” Atsumu chimed, taking a drag from his own cigarette.

Sakusa replied. “Because I don’t. Not when you’re around, at least.” Atsumu was used to Sakusa’s impersonality towards him, so hearing those words did nothing to bruise his ego. However, he’s pleasantly surprised that Sakusa was responding to him at all. He was curious to see how far he could push the conversation, testing to see the limits of his partner’s patience with his line of questioning.

“Huh? Why? Does my presence offend you that much, is that it?” Atsumu teased. Underneath his playful tone, however, his throat caught just a little bit as he said the words out loud. He didn’t mean to offend, not really. He just wanted to know the truth, even if he wasn’t prepared to hear it.

Sakusa disposed of the last of his cigarette in the ashtray between them. In a quiet whisper, he replied. “That’s the thing, Miya.” He leaned forward, his weight on both arms flat on the surface. His head was tilted down, stray black curls covering his eyes, concealing his expression from Atsumu’s gaze.

Atsumu became quiet as well. He stood up straight, his eyes looking forward ahead of him, the corner of his eyes flickering to his left. Sakusa’s words weighed heavy on him as he anticipated the writer’s next words.

“You don’t.” Sakusa continued, a deep sigh following these two words.

“I don’t?” The blonde asks, genuinely confused at Sakusa’s statement. “What do you mean I don’t?”

“You don’t offend me, Miya.” Sakusa replied, turning his head to look at a confused Atsumu. “I know we’ve never really been on good terms. You’re infuriating, obnoxious and sloppy.”

“Ah. Well, those all sound pretty offensive to me.” 

“And yet, you’re  _ so _ damn good at what you do.” 

Atsumu couldn’t hold back the smile playing on his lips.The revelation was simple, but nevertheless surprising. 

“Huh. Interesting.” He responded. “Never thought I’d live to see the day you’d say these words to me.”

“I’m just being honest.” Sakusa said, his words blunt as ever. 

“Honesty, huh?” Atsumu’s question hung in the air, filling the silence between the both of them. He knew he shouldn’t ask this, knew that he was opening fresh wounds if he asked the question that’s been nagging him, but the words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. 

“If we’re talking about honesty… humor me. Why did you kiss me?”

“I…” Sakusa’s hesitation was visible, and his pained expression told Atsumu all he needed to know.

“Forget I asked. It’s okay.” Atsumu’s voice was clipped, the words coming out harsher than he intended it to be. It’s not as if he expected an answer from Sakusa, and there was no use bringing up a thing in the past. He’s dug himself into a proverbial hole, and there’s no knowing how far deep he’s gone.

But Atsumu knew. They were already past the point of no return  —  had been for a while —  when he saw Sakusa struggling to respond. But he had pushed for an answer, and he had to be ready for whatever response he was going to get.

“No, I-” Sakusa exhaled slowly, speaking slowly as he tried to formulate his sentence. “I just wanted to see something.”

“And what  _ exactly  _ did you want to see, huh?” Atsumu replied through gritted teeth. He was doing his best not to let it get to him, but somehow anger started to run through his veins. “Can you be honest about that, too?”

“I don’t know, Miya. Okay? That’s me being honest. I got carried away. That’s it. The kiss meant  _ nothing.” _

As Sakusa raised his voice at the end of his sentence, Atsumu flinched. 

_ So much for honesty, huh? _

Sakusa continued. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I made things more complicated than they already are. I just want things to go back to normal.”

Atsumu scoffed. “When were things ever normal between us?”

“Well, as normal as we can get, at least.”

“And do you think that’s gonna happen?” Atsumu asks. “Normal?” 

“Not really, no.”

Their conversation ended at a stalemate, with both of them staring outside the window in silence.

Mentally, Atsumu was kicking himself. He should have left well enough alone, the incident as something that was better left unsaid and never to be spoken again into existence. It was what they both agreed on, after all.

And yet.

Atsumu’s thoughts were disturbed once Sakusa spoke out. “But I want to try, at least.”

“What?” Atsumu turned his head towards the other man, surprised by the statement.

“Try to be normal. Something. Anything. I don’t want what happened to get in the way of our work.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“We can try to be....friends.” Sakusa said with a shrug.

Atsumu let out a dry laugh. “Friends? Don’t you think that’s asking for a bit much?”

“Civility, at the very least. For the sake of work, for the pitch. Once it’s done, we can go back to whatever it is we have.”

“Mutual hatred?” Atsumu replied, the corner of his lips curling upwards into a smirk, which promptly earned a glare from Sakusa.

“Funny.” 

Atsumu huffed. “Fine.”

“Fine.” Sakusa put out his hand towards Atsumu. “Come on, let’s shake hands. That’s what civil people do.”

“Wow, you sure you don’t want to sanitize my hand first?”

“Just shut up and shake my hand. We still have revisions to finish.”

“Alright, alright. Stop being such a hardass.” Atsumu took Sakusa’s hand in his, shaking it firmly before letting go. 

They opened the door, finally exiting the smoking room and heading back to their work area for another night of overtime work.

“So, we’re...okay?” Sakusa asked tentatively, looking at Atsumu who was right behind him. 

If he was being honest, Atsumu was relieved. He wanted the conversation and outbursts of emotion to stay right within the confines of the room.

With a click of the door, the smoking room was finally closed for the night, and their feelings along with it.

“Sure. We’re okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NGL I was trying to get these words out while the scene played out in my mind, so I hope I did these two justice.
> 
> Special thanks as always to the amazing Meg (ao3 Stormhund) for the beta-reading and Sakusa simpery. HAHA ILY
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Talk to me @bokkuatsu over on twitter! :)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to Cel and Bei, my fellow Ad Agency slaves. We can't have SakuAtsu as our officemates, so I took it upon myself to write them in our office at the very least. AHAHA
> 
> Special thank you to the following:  
> Akane (ao3: akanemnida) and Mika (ao3: Mika60) for being the resident SKTS experts whenever I have a question about these two. Thank you for dragging me into SKTS hell. HAHAHA
> 
> Meg (ao3: stormhund): For letting me slide into your DMs with every brainrot I have, and for being a beta (even if u don't go here WAHAHA) YOU'RE THE BEST, QUEEN!
> 
> Ham (ao3: mysticTwirl) and Nhazy: For holding my hand throughout this process. I wouldn't have the confidence to write without you.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you look forward to the next updates :)  
> Feel free to message me @bokkuatsu on Twitter!


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